


It Arrived By Post

by WaldosAkimbo



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Cock Ring, Delayed Ejaculation, Dildos, Fluff and Smut, Fucking Machine, M/M, Nipple Clamps, and newt has a solution, anorgasmia, hermann has trouble getting off, just fun all around honestly, marriage is my biggest kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: It's the five year anniversary and, traditionally, they would give each other wood. So, they do exactly that. The contraption is ridiculous, the set up doubly so, and, it should be said often, sex is funny. Laugh about it. I do.





	It Arrived By Post

**Author's Note:**

> I have a soft spot for Hermann having some form of anorgasmia/delayed orgasms. Just that they take longer and Newt is ready and willing to help. That's the power of love, baby!

When the post arrived, Newt stepped in around Hermann, pushing him away from the door. Not that there was any rule in the house saying who needed to answer, but Hermann thought it was polite to greet Joan and accept the bills, research requests, and surprising amount of fan letters that still made it to their doorstep—Newton made certain to keep every single one, but it was getting cumbersome and he had started storing the collection in their basement. Hermann often joked that the Kaiju Groupie Groupies were going to force them into a two-bedroom with a shed just to keep up with all the letters. Newton looked far too pleased with that prospect, but they still hadn’t looked at properties, so, perhaps that was laid to rest. Still, as of now, Hermann was the one who generally answered, at least for the mail. Often times he had a scone for their friendly mailman and liked to hear updates on the stray kitten she had recently adopted. Ferdinand had made a remarkable recovery. He boasted often, hoping to persuade Newton to favorable conditions that they might pick up a rescue of their own.

“No, I got it,” Newt said, barricading the foyer. “Go finish up those pancakes or whatever.”

“You know I’m making _Eikurken_ exclusively for you, darling man.”

“I know. I said.” Newt grinned and Hermann could tell he was trying to sneak something, but he could hardly keep himself from indulging his husband on most days. Holidays and anniversaries simply made him overly fond. “Go. Please?”

Hermann leaned forward and kissed him gently. “Only because you said ‘please.’”

There was an exchange happening blindly behind him as Hermann went back to the kitchen to finish preparing their breakfast. He leaned against the counter, his cane resting nearby, as he buttered and flipped and cooked. It was a late start to their day, but the morning had been filled with deplorably sweet moments of accolades, declaration of love, and a surprise from Newton who simply couldn’t believe Hermann, of all people, could put up with him for twenty odd years.

“And five of them official!” Newton had said from under the covers, splayed out across Hermann’s chest. Hermann enjoyed threading his fingers through Newton’s hair and the weight of him made Hermann feel nearly complete in a way he had missed for too long in his life.

“As of today, yes.”

“I love you,” Newton said, wiggling down.

Hermann had made a small noise of disapproval, tugging on Newton’s shoulders only to have the man vanish completely beneath the duvet. Newton muttered something, and Hermann had blindly asked him to repeat himself, the words disappearing as he felt lips trail down his stomach.

“Newton,” he said softly, and then again, when he felt his husband’s fingers sweep across his waistband, he yelped out, “Newton!”

It was surely too warm under all those covers for him to breathe, let alone play on with his little teasing, but Hermann soon found lips and tongue wetting the front of his boxers, and a tingle up his spine betrayed him.

“That’s not necessary.” His tone suggested otherwise. “ _Please_.”

Whatever little promise that had been uttered was completely lost against skin and flannel and cotton sheets. Newton had slipped himself around Hermann, gently sucking up into his wet, warm mouth with far too much ease. Hermann’s fists tightened quickly on the sheets, his back arching as far as his hip would allow him so early in the day, and he tossed the covers away to give himself access to his husband again. It wasn’t more than a minute or so before Hermann was red-faced and bashfully pushed Newton’s head away. It was all over nearly as soon as it started, a pretty wet cock for show and nothing more. Because it was early. Because it was difficult. Because he wanted him up closer to kiss him.

“Please. Please, _mein Schatz._ ”

“I know,” Newton answered and kissed his stomach, curling in around him until he settled back down.

Newton never insulted Hermann when it was difficult for him to finish, enjoying all the delectable sounds he could pull out of him and the way Hermann became overly affectionate even with a short tease when he found the edge of his pleasure and got stuck. They had not tried long, but Hermann was still waking up and he didn’t want the morning to start with frustrations. It wasn’t Newton’s fault Hermann, the man who had _rules_ about public displays of affection, suddenly tossed any propriety out the window and simply wanted. He wanted. He wanted by way of holding and touching and whispering to him. Clinging. Kissing. Newton definitely enjoyed that.

“You’re amazing,” Newton said, smiling against the hundred or so quick kisses dotting his chin.

Hermann had panted towards the ceiling, his nerves singing a fiery song, until it drifted off and he could kiss Newton better without moaning with some unseemly want.

“No, it’s definitely a seemly…seemingly…dude, I want it,” Newton had said.

Hermann pressed his forehead against Newton’s, reaching out for the tether of their bond.

“I’m making breakfast.”

“God, I love you.”

Hermann had promised them pancakes— _Eikurken_ , actually, because Hermann was indulging Newton this morning, in more ways than one—and had a stack of them ready on the table. There was honey and brown sugar and homemade raspberry preserves waiting for Newton to come back.

Except that Newton did not come back.

Not right away, at the very least.

Hermann was seated at the table, reading through a few article on his tablet while the sun spread itself over their table. He glanced up at the bay window beside him after a shadow skipped across the light and he looked out at the garden beyond the glass. It was an overgrown thing, choked with vegetation that threatened the boundaries of three very sturdy and very stubborn fence walls. He couldn’t help but smile at the thing, at the memories of Newton tending to all the flowers and shrubs, of him stretching up and wiping his hand quickly across his forehead, smearing it with sweat and dirt. How he might pluck his recently required and instantly cherished black-framed glasses off his face and clean them on the rumpled hem of his t-shirt. He imagined Newton over by the herbs, gathering clippings or fighting the good fight with the raspberries—a hard one battle, of course, but Hermann made them jellies and jams and it was so worth it—or puttering around with the experimental blooms. There was a patch skirting a narrow stone path, deep purple petals that glowed with galaxy-inspired light, the _andromedeae lilleae._ Newton had insisted on the misspelling in the name to irk Hermann. Because their love was nauseating and great, but it was built on barbs and jabs and needed the reminder every now and again with a useless academic brawl printed in a journal and sitting in their joint library.

“What’s on the brain, Herms?”

Hermann sat up, breathing in like he was rousted from a nap. His chin was warm from where he had rested it in his hand, daydreaming. He batted his eyes and looked down, gently patting the table.

“Come join me,” he answered instead. “Why do you look like you’ve been running laps?”

Newton sat heavily in the chair next to Hermann, letting out a grateful sigh. He plucked his shirt off his skin and grinned, which was all he could do to hold his secret in place.

“Newton,” Hermann said slowly, and got a finger tap to the nose. “Should I be concerned?”

“Probably,” Newt answered, but laughed and took off his glasses, smudging them on the bottom of his shirt—the day they had to go get a new prescription, for the simple fact that he needed them again, put the man in tears. They were both reminded of what Newt lost and gained in these tiny gestures and cleaning them now may well have been a ploy to make Hermann back off, but it worked. “It’s a surprise, babe. Trust me?”

Hermann chewed his tongue, nodding once as he lifted the plate of lukewarm cakes. “ _Eikurken_?”

“ _Gesundheit_ ,” Newton answered and laughed, kissing the little twist of Hermann’s mouth. “They look bomb.”

They were “bomb.”

It wasn’t very long before Newton scooted his chair closer, bumping a knee against Hermann’s thigh, his hand migrating from his own lap over to Hermann’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. They were affectionate in the comfort and quiet of their home, but some days Newt became more cat than man and Hermann licked up a little spot of honey off the tip of his finger before he brushed his hand through Newton’s hair.

“You’re alright?” he asked.

“More than,” Newton answered, cutting uneven triangles into his food. “You?”

“Absolutely.”

He let his hand rest in Newton’s soft hair, his eyes dropping at the hazy warm colors of their kitchen. They had no real plans for the day. A celebration of their marriage had been queued up by his sister, but that was scheduled next weekend, with guests arriving as early as next Wednesday. The house would need to be cleaned up. Food would need to be prepped. Nerves needed time to ramp up and be settled back down by the opposite partner, depending on who was feeling particularly anxious that day. But, for now, the two had decided to simply enjoy each other. The weather was nice. The world was quiet. And somebody’s hands were migrating in a slow and teasing pattering across his stomach.

“Are you brushing me down?” Hermann asked, pitching his voice towards annoyance even as the smile cut his face.

“Brushing you? No,” Newton said. “Down?” His hand slithered across Hermann’s stomach, snaking back down towards his waistband again. “That one I can—”

Hermann only cut him off with a small hmm trapped between teeth and lip. His fingers tightened in Newton’s hair, pulling enough to get his attention and force his face up so he could kiss him softly.

“You’re incorrigible,” Hermann whispered, eyes firmly shut.

“No, I’m encourag _ing_ ,” Newton insisted. “Five years, dude.”

“I thought the tradition was to gift wood,” Hermann said, his mouth falling open as those warm, calloused fingers pressed against him.

“That’s what I’m looking for,” Newton said. He got an almost-scoff and a hand pushing at his chest at the terrible joke, but any further protest died when he kissed at Hermann’s jugular. “I have the whole day to try, don’t I?”

“You don’t want to waste your time on that,” Hermann answered, his voice choked back from stretching up his neck. He was very nearly panting again, but the air was suddenly cold against his skin. He was remiss to feel Newton pull back.

“Dude,” Newton said, and Hermann had to blink before looking at him. Something turned inside that brilliant chaotic head of his and he winced an eye shut. “That is literally all I want.”

“What?” Hermann asked. He would not pout. He almost did, but he would absolutely not.

“You. Yes, all the time it takes, too. Of course I want you, you moron.”

“Newt. I—”

“Fuck it.” Newton pushed up from the table and Hermann thought he had offended him, a little drop of fear spreading like fire before his husband reached out and took Hermann’s hand. “C’mon. I have a surprise for you.”

There was no time or want for protests. Hermann snatched up his cane and left the dishes out on the table—oh, he would be cleaning those up later, too; there was no way in _hell_ he would stand having them sit out until tomorrow. He followed Newton, anticipating they would head to the bedroom, when he guided them towards the basement door.

“What on Earth are we—”

“Trust me,” Newton said again, his eyes kind and pleading and perfect. He squeezed Hermann’s hand. That was all it took.

They were lucky to have found a little cottage—hardly a cottage, by standard definition, but cuter to call it as such—that had a finished basement. There were “tweaks” that needed to be made, many of them involving a sound-proofed room and perhaps a “modest” lab set up. But it had a very nice carpeted floor, painted walls, lighting, and a small bed and bath for any of their guests who spilled over from the two additional bedrooms upstairs. Hermann went down slowly, trusting Newton’s footing and hand to keep him up. He did not like to use the stairs and whenever he had to go and find his husband after he was tinkering away for too long, he’d use the sliding doors that led out to a small portion of their back yard and a path that disappeared towards the cliffside. This space was undoubtably Newton’s. From color scheme to practicality to mini-recording studio to trunks of fan letters. It was his.

 _There’s_ , Newt insisted.

Still.

They stepped out into the basement living area. Newton had cleaned, he could see, and wondered if the vacuum track lines were from when Hermann was away at the university yesterday. The pillows were stacked up neatly on a beat-up sofa they couldn’t seem to part with and the recording studio’s door was closed. Hermann guessed what chaos lived in there and smiled again when Newton tugged on his hands, walking backwards.

“Don’t freak out,” he said, causing Hermann to snap his attention down to his husband.

“That alone tells me I should,” Hermann answered.

“I know. Just…. Okay, I’ll explain.”

They walked towards the guest bedroom, nearly waltzing. Hermann wanted to know immediately now that Newton was being coy. But, he figured a bit of trust was earned. When Newton pushed the door open, Hermann paused in the entryway and tilted his head with a little, “…huh.”

“I said I’d explain,” Newton said quickly.

“This looks like…yes, I think you should.”

What it _looked_ like was practically a home-made gym, somehow attached to something akin to construction equipment. Hermann had to guess that Newton had been working on this for some time, as there was no way he had set this all up in the short half-hour or so he had been down in the basement between getting the mail and eating breakfast with him. A metal bar angled over the bed, attached to a cable that ran down to the… _machine_ near the foot of the bed.

“It’s ridiculous, I’m starting that right off the bat. It’s ridiculous, and you’re probably also going to say that this is ridiculous too, but they arrived today so I’m sort’ve really happy they got here?” Newt said, bouncing up on his toes. Hermann slowly looked over at him before he bound over to the dresser, picking up a box and carrying it back over. “Before I even open this, the nipple clamps are totally for me.”

“I’m going back upstairs,” Hermann said, starting to turn away.

“Wait! Wait, babe, please?”

Hermann glanced down at Newton’s hand on his arm, then the slightly worried look on his husband’s face, the fear that he was being judged harshly and Hermann wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way. Partially true, but he hated the fact that he would hurt Newton in any capacity that couldn’t be fixed with a simple jibe, a lengthy debate with charts and chalkboards, or a hot meal. Hermann closed his eyes, pushing down his preconceived notions. There was no need to shame him. It was healthy to explore. Also, he loved him, so that should be plainly stated as often as possible.

“Explain,” Hermann said before opened his eyes. “Please.”

Newton stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “Only because you said ‘please,’” he said quickly and tugged on Hermann’s arm, guiding him gently into the room and over onto the bed. “Okay. So. Like I said earlier, right? I am so ready and willing to take literally all day to, uh, help you. You now. Uh.”

“You can’t be bashful about saying ‘getting off’ when you’re the one holding a box with nipple clamps.”

“I can be bashful about whatever I want, dude.”

Hermann didn’t quite stifle a huff when he rolled his eyes. He reached out and took one of Newton’s hands, squeezing it three times.

“What…is this, _mein Schatz_?”

“It is 100 percent a fucking machine,” Newton said without looking at him. He strained a smile and flipped the lid up on the box. “Happy anniversary!”

There was a brief moment where Hermann’s brain just shut down. It fizzled and popped with a faulty connection, his eyes drifting down to the package that Newton was holding. Double entendre on the meaning, even.

Nestled neatly amongst a ridiculous satin frame were two silicone props and a second package wrapped up in a drawstring bag, tucked in between them. They were more or less anatomically correct, matching flesh tones and curves and that vein that Hermann liked especially running along one of them. Hermann flushed red when he recognized—

“Did you literally make a replica of your genitals?”

“And yours! I mean mostly. Like, I couldn’t really _do_ your mold, because then you would find out and the whole surprise would be ruined, so I went on, like, best educated guess. And I’m really educated on it. And I’m not saying you’re egotistical enough to get fucked by your own dick, but, like, if it works, I mean…man, that would be fun to have two Hermann’s at once.”

“I might black out,” Hermann announced, touching his head.

“It’s weird,” Newton whined, setting the box down and taking Hermann’s hands as he slid to the floor and kneeled between him. “I know it’s weird. I’m sorry. This was weird. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you. I got an idea in my head and I thought with physical exertion plus some extra stimulation and sensory inputs, right, maybe that would help? But I totally didn’t consult you on it because it’s just so fucking weird and—”

“What does the bar do?” Hermann asked quietly, cupping Newton’s head between his hands to silence him. They both glanced over at it.

“Uh. Okay.” But he said nothing, so Hermann bent forward and kissed his eyelids. He settled instantly, his hands dancing lightly over the top of Hermann’s thighs. “Okay. I can detach that. But….”

Again, Hermann kissed his brow, as much calming his husband down as he was convincing himself to go through with this bizarre experiment. “Just tell me. Rip the band-aid off, darling man.”

“Okay.” Newton took a deep breath and smiled strangely at Hermann’s stomach. “Lie down?”

Instead of fighting him on this and demanding everything be laid out plainly for him, because that was fair and he should consent to everything first, he did lay down on the mattress, carefully stretching his legs out down towards the machine. His head rested comfortably on the pillows and he turned his face into the pillowcase to watch Newton, smelling clean detergent. His husband had changed the bedding even for this. He reached out, ignoring the metal bar overhead, easily within grabbing distance, and took up Newton’s hand.

“I won’t go any further until you explain,” Hermann said seriously, even if his face was kind.

“I know.” Newton crawled up on the bed beside him and curled in, spooning him with his knees tucked up on Hermann’s thigh. “Okay, ready?”

“Ready.”

Newton reached up and grabbed the bar, pulling it down and hefting his weight up off the pillow. The cable pulled and something clicked on the machine down near the foot of the bed. Nothing turned on, but it was clear that the two were connected for a purpose.

“Okay. So, it’s a bit of an odd design, but, again, I thought if you had something to focus some of your physical energy, eventually it would, and this is a tactless way of putting this, but bear with me, man.”

“I’ll try.”

“It’ll basically wear you out so when you let go, that little baby down there will start fucking you and it is totally mildly sexual torture, I’m thinking, but I think it should be the right amount of stimulation plus expenditure of that you probably totally maybe can absolutely orgasm.”

Hermann looked between the metal bar and back down at the machine again.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said evenly.

“I know,” Newton answered, letting go and resting back onto the mattress. “Bad ridiculous or good ridiculous.”

“Somehow both.”

“I’ll take it.” Newton propped himself up on his elbow, biting the tip of his tongue and rubbing Hermann’s chest. “Whadya think?”

“Why do you think I can hold myself up long enough for this to work?”

Newton laughed, and it was not unkind, just surprised. He leaned in to quickly kiss Hermann, his hand migrating to Hermann’s bicep and giving it a squeeze. “You’ve got mad upper-body strength, dude. Your back? Is fucking…uh…gorgeous. Listen, it’s totally insane and totally silly, but I figured it might be kind of fun and you can tell me to stop everything and I’ll, like, carry you upstairs—”

“No, you won’t,” Hermann said pointedly.

“I’ll _totally_ walk you upstairs. I’ll put all this stuff away, so you never see it. And we’ll do our usual-usual and I am absolutely happy to do that. I mean it. Like I am never not going to love usual-usual, I am so here for that, like—”

“Newton!” Hermann grabbed his chin. “You don’t have to vocalize every thought that comes to mind.”

“…Yes, I do.”

Hermann sighed and dropped back again. “Yes, you do.”

He smiled when Newton’s fingers trailed lazily over Hermann’s skin, eyes darting down to his mouth and neck.

“But…if you wanna…we can also…try this out?”

Hermann laughed despite himself, distracted by his husband’s delicate touch. He bit his lip shut, cheeks rosy from the prospect.

“…if I say stop….”

“We stop. Promise. That’s a non-negotiable. Obviously.”

Promises were good. Promises were all they had, essentially. Hermann nodded and relaxed back on the pillows again. He nodded once more before he said, “Alright. Let’s…let’s give this a shot.”

Newton rolled onto him and kissed him; a searing, needy thing that burned his skin. It wasn’t much to get him moaning with want, his hips inadvertently shifting on Hermann, who pushed him off, panting lightly.

“You’re going to get off without me,” Hermann said, stroking his husband’s flushed face. Newton swallowed, blinking slowly, before he snapped up the box and pecked Hermann’s cheek.

“No, I won’t,” he said and rolled away, heading over to the small attached bath. “Give me three minutes. Tops.”

“To stimulate yourself?” Hermann asked with an innocent smile, resting his hands on his stomach.

“Nope!” Newton answered and disappeared, leaving Hermann to lie there and study the contraption.

“This _is_ ridiculous,” Hermann said quietly, trying to figure out the full breadth of the machine, the mechanics of it, the attachment with the metal bar. It was ridiculous, yes, but remarkable too. Newton had set this all up without revealing anything, for the sheer fact of a surprise, of a gift, of something new to do together. _And,_ for their anniversary, no less. It was absurd, but so is love, and that thought, at least, helped settle Hermann’s nerves.

Three minutes came and went without comment. In fact, it well went on its way to pushing five. Hermann tried to push himself into the proper mindset, reaching down his flannel bottoms and boxers and stroking himself idly. When five minutes came and went, Hermann sat up again.

“Are you alright in there?” he called out.

There was a short bang and a muffled reply. Hermann snatched up his cane and was about to head over when Newt opened the bathroom door and tumbled out in his boxers and a loose t-shirt, nearly going ass over kettle. He turned and caught himself on the bed, smiling sheepishly.

 “Are you alright?” Hermann asked again.

“Peachy,” Newton answered, swiping slightly damp bangs off his forehead. “Now. Lie down, man. Get comfy.”

Hermann did as instructed. He stretched out, hands resting on his chest as he forced out even, controlled breaths. He wasn’t nervous. Fine, he was absolutely nervous, but he could control that. He smiled, quirked an eyebrow and was about to ask if Newton had decided to back out when he felt those perfect fingers slide across his skin beneath his waistband again.

“You were warming up,” Newt said quietly, his mouth hovering over Hermann’s uneven hips.

“I thought it might help,” Hermann answered in the same reserved tone, lacing his fingers together. He stared up at the bar overhead, unable to help himself from imagining a swinging ax from Edgar Allen Poe’s macabre tale. “Please tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m not letting this thing fuck you unprepped,” Newton answered and received a short, surprised gasp in response as he pulled Hermann’s bottoms down and slipped them off his ankles. Newt was sure to keep his socks on, kissing lightly as his ankles, trailing back up to his knobby knees and ghosting his lips across his thighs. The unmistakable pop of the little bottle of lube made Hermann’s cock twitch with anticipation.

“Did you get that from upstairs?” Hermann asked, trying to keep the little quiver out of his words.

“Side table.”

“Best remember to put it back when we’re done.”

“Oh, I will. Wouldn’t wanna have to run down here next time.”

Hermann laughed, short and quiet, biting the side of his index finger. Biting it a little harder when he felt his legs gently pushed apart and a cool slick finger tease and push beyond the pliant ring of muscle at his entrance. He put deep, ghost-white indents into his skin until Newton rubbed his stomach and whispered sweetly at him, “Relax.”

“I’m trying,” Hermann answered through a fluttery laugh.

“I know you are.”

Newton leaned over and kissed his stomach, lazily tracing tongue and lips down to the wiry trail of pubic hair. He was terribly gentle and methodical, strictly sticking to fingers and kissing every patch of skin from navel to kneecaps without once grazing Hermann’s stubbornly flushed cock. The ache dissipated, and Hermann wanted, god, _desperately_ , but it didn’t have that peak that stuck up against a wall and had nowhere to run. It shifted, crested, rolled and fell again in a stumbling bounce as Newton worked him open and when he was lightly panting against the pillowcase, taking fistfuls of the sheets, Newton slipped out. Hermann moaned at the empty feeling, touching his knees together.

“This is the most worked up I’ve seen you in days,” Newton whispered, almost like he’d come upon a revelation.

“Darling man. Dearest husband. If you don’t do something about this soon, I will _strangle you_ ,” Hermann vowed through gritted teeth.

Newton laughed, easy and airy, another quick peck to Hermann’s scarred up thigh before he went to the edge of the bed. He slotted his absurd replica onto the machine—yes, it was Newton’s, because Hermann refused outright to entertain using the one that was supposed to be modeled after his own—and applied extra lubrication as he carefully shifted the machine closer. They lost some of their momentum, some of the energy as Newton lined up the machine, prying Hermann’s legs apart and putting pillows next to his knees to help.

“This is ridiculous,” Hermann muttered again.

“Totally.” He bent down again, disappearing from Hermann’s eyeline. He had to practically sit up just to see the top of Newt’s head. “Sex is ridiculous, man. Alright. I’m going to turn it on the lowest setting. Let me know how it goes.”

“Absurd. Just ab—”

There was a click and a whir as the machine warmed up. The attachment pistoned forward, the head of the dildo pressing against Hermann, who yelped and jerked back. Newton’s head popped up.

“Little closer?” Newt asked.  Hermann had to settle again before he could even entertain the idea, breathing hard as he tried to will himself to let his legs drop open again. “Reach up for that bar and give it a tug for me?”

“This. Is. Absurd!”

Still, Hermann reached up and yanked the bar down to him, his arms bent nearly ninety degrees to get the mechanism to pause. The machine stopped mid-thrust and Newton nudged the contraption forward again. When he was satisfied, he disappeared again and locked the machine in place.

“Now. I’m no mathematician, but I think that should be the appropriate distance to do it,” Newton said, holding a small, blocky remote in hand. He clapped his forearm and rubbed it. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’m dangling from the edge of a cliff,” Hermann answered, even if he was easily holding himself up.

“A sexy sex-cliff?”

“Please don’t start that.”

Newton hummed, tossing the remote next to Hermann. “You wanna let the bar down and see how it feels?”

“This all seems so silly,” Hermann said, his cheek resting on his bicep.

“But you look amazing.”

“I look a mess.”

“An amazing mess.”

“Do I look amazing?”

“What? Of course you—”

Hermann peeked around his arm as Newton yanked his shirt over the top of his head, bending carefully so he didn’t catch the delicate chain dangling between his nipples. He moaned lightly at the friction, arching is back to show them off. Hermann gasped, dropping his weight the very short distance onto the bed as the machine kicked back on and thrust into him. He snapped his head back and pulled himself up to the bar as soon as he was empty again, panting hard.

“ _Mein Gott_ ,” he whispered breathlessly. Yes. The distance was perfection.

Newton was staring open-mouthed as he bent again to slide off his boxers. He blinked when he spotted Hermann’s heavy-lidded eyes and grinned.

“This is gonna be fun.”

“Y-Yes.” Hermann swallowed, shifting his hips slightly. “I…I imagine…I’ll lose you for hours down here.”

“No way, dude. This is for us.” Hermann made an obvious face and Newton laughed again. “Okay, maybe a little true. But…still.”

He finally slid off his boxers and tossed them in the pile of clothes near the dresser, padding over to the bed to straddle Hermann without dropping his weight on him, blocking the sight of the machine. Hermann could not help but stare directly at the small black elastic band at the base of Newton’s prick, curling back around his balls. Newton looked down the curve of his chest and grinned, going rosy red from ear to shoulders.

“Yeah. I know,” he said softly. “Look, I get off way faster than you, okay? I figured a cock ring would help, like—”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to let go of this insipid bar yet. Kiss me,” Hermann said insistently.

Newton didn’t have to be told twice.

When Newt pressed in to kiss him, he reached up and held Hermann’s wrists, not to help him hold on, but at least to add a little extra weight. His chest brushed against Hermann’s, the chain skipping across his skin and Hermann could not help himself to moan into Newton’s mouth. He wanted very much to let go and run his fingers along that chain, perhaps tug it a little and watch Newton’s instant reaction. His arms began to tremble as he dug his tongue into Newton’s mouth.

He slipped again. It was hardly his fault. Newt was distracting him and _Gott_ , his arms were starting to burn. They flopped back onto the pillows nested up by the headboard like wet laundry and the machine kicked back on again, thrusting right into Hermann with a damnably good precision. He clung to Newton a moment, digging his fingernails into his arms and getting used to the stretch.

Hermann reached up again, distracted by the sensations that his arm just hung in the air a moment, mouth agape.

“D’you need me to stop it?” Newton asked and Hermann shook his head, waiting for a goddamn-that’s-so-bloody-good penetration and then curled up, grabbing at the bar again on the exit. He breathed ragged against Newton, shaking his head again. “I can turn it off. Dude. _Love_. Hum once if you want me to turn it off.”

“No,” Hermann answered in a harried rush of air. “Def – definitely not.” He lolled his head back against his shoulder to catch his breath. It took a moment before he could finally say, “More.”

“More? More, like…like faster?”

Yes. That was it. Faster. Hermann nodded, and got a second kiss as a reward. He bit Newton’s lip and dragged it out between his teeth. Newton blindly pawed beside them until he had the remote, clicking it up a notch. When Hermann whimpered, he bumped it up one more.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hermann answered and wiped his forehead against his arm. “How…how close. H-how close are you?”

“Babe, I love you, but fuck me. This is about—”

“Precisely,” Hermann hissed. “Please.”

Newton tilted his head until he got the meaning, his face blossoming in a happy smile. “Ohhhh, fuck…got it. Got it. Loud and clear, holy shit.”

It was all he could do to keep from whimpering as he strained to hold onto the bar while Newt got himself situated. His forearms were on fire. No need for a bloody gym membership if they were going to get it all out of the way just like this. There were muscles along his bac and across his stomach that he didn’t think he even had that were lighting up from use.

Newt had Hermann lined up and rubbed the head of Hermann’s cock against his entrance, teasing himself.

“Hurry up,” Hermann snapped and got a look, a little downturned pout. Well, he was trembling with effort, shiny with sweat, and hard as a damn nail.

Newton, who had lied like a bastard, had prepped himself in the bathroom, slick and ready as he sank down with a happy groan. When he bottomed out, his head tipped back in euphoria, his cock bouncing up, shiny with precum and blushing like a rose. God, he looked lovely. He arched his back and the chain splayed beautiful on his chest and he looked _lovely_. When he ground his hips down, Hermann let go and settled back just in time to meet another forceful push from the machine.

The two had been married for five brilliant years, so it was reasonable that they had switched roles in the bedroom on numerous occasions. Though, of course, Hermann would be first to admit that he preferred to top his wonderful, mouthy, ingenious, arguably insane husband. Merely preference, though not the stubborn or rigid norm that they were expected to follow. Experimentation and variety was encouraged, which was probably why he should have been less shocked by this whole prospect. The machine was very big and cumbersome. The dildo replicas were a bit gauche. He had his reasonings.

Still.

Bloody _hell_.

Hermann hated himself, just a little bit, when his mind skipped across the phrase “ _the little engine that could_.” Of course, that was quickly driven right back out of his brain as he was fucked into a literal stupor.

And, it should be said, as always, as often as possible, he loved his husband. He loved many things about him and suffered through a few and they had found what worked for them for the rest of it. He loved his curious mind and he loved the “usual-usual” of their sex life but, on his life, Hermann had never felt anything like this. Of course, it was still Newton. In a very roundabout, cheating sort’ve way. And in a less roundabout way as he rode atop him, grinding his hips down and moaning up a storm at the ceiling. Christ, even through all of this, Hermann got transfixed by that man. His tattoos. The lines of his body. The fluff of hair, the loud mouth, the glasses sliding hilariously down his nose. The hint of his nipples through the clamps and that silver line between them. Hermann reached up like he was going for the bar and looped a finger under the chain, tugging it. Newt’s gasp, arching down to brace his hands on Hermann’s chest, the incredible jump in his cock up to his belly. It was a better reaction than Hermann had imagined.

“Oh. Shit,” Newton muttered in a tight voice.

He bounced a little more insistently and said nothing, but there was that snap across the Drift to alert Hermann right before he arched his back again and came hard with a yell. Hermann watched him with a dizzying ecstasy as thin ribbons of cum splashed up high on his chest, splattering across his stomach. It was beautiful. It was ignition as that hard-won sensation dropped straight down his spine and Hermann gripped painfully at Newton’s stuttering hips, tripping over the edge right after him. He was almost surprised that his vision went fuzzy at the edges, almost detached from his body when he shouted Newton’s name back at him.

The world shivered black. There was a ringing in his ears before he sank down into the pillows. Hermann had no reserves to move, his legs flopped uselessly open as Newton’s machine continued to drive in, igniting those wonderfully oversensitive nerves. His husband snatched up the remote and lowered the speed until he could stop it when it was fully retracted. He bent at the waist and kissed Hermann, the two of them humming tiny affectionate noises into each other.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_ ,” Newton whispered against his temple. “That was amazing.”

Hermann nodded, barely, but he got that out, his smile dazed and eyelids drooping.

“You did so fucking good. You’re so good.” Hermann could weep. Maybe later. He just wanted to be jelly right then. “I’m gonna clean us up. Are you okay?”

“More than,” Hermann whispered.

Newton kissed him again, quick and chaste, their teeth nearly touching with the force of it all the same. “You’re perfect. Okay.”

They both whimpered again as Newton got up and stood by the bed on wobbly legs. Hermann could barely keep his eyes open to watch him, as much as he wanted to. He heard him curse again and peeked as he held the nipple clamps in one hand, rubbing feeling back into his body as a tremor went across his shoulders. A phantom twitch ignited in Hermann, but he rolled his head back into the pillow and breathed through it.

He was almost asleep, which didn’t seem fair, when Newton came back. He had unlocked and pushed away the machine and brought back a warm, soft washcloth for his husband. Hermann noticed he was wearing his boxers again. That also didn’t seem fair. He moaned when Newton cleaned him, pawing at his shoulder. Newton shushed him and kissed his fluttering stomach again.

“Shhh. You let me take care of this,” he said gently. “Let me take care of you.”

Perhaps he wept. Just a little bit. A tiny bit out of the corner of his eye. Enough to be confused for sweat, which he wiped away just as quickly.

Once everything was put away and they were cleaned up, Newton dragged over a comforter from the closet. At least he didn’t try to entertain the idea of getting them to move back upstairs to their bed. Later, fine, but not right now. Newton took off his glasses and placed them up on the headboard, which was not the most practical place, but Hermann didn’t have the energy to start an argument. He curled up besides Hermann, who was dressed only in his socks, and pulled the blanket up around them as he rested his cheek on Hermann’s chest.

“I love you, dude,” Newt said softly. “Happy anniversary.”

Hermann tapped Newton’s arm. _I love you_.

Hermann started to drift off in the warm blanket, Newt breathing evenly beside him, letting his muscles unspool from his bones, when he felt Newton gently kiss his chest and say, “Do you want me to do the dishes?”

“Marry me,” Hermann muttered and smiled into the lips gently pressing against his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Trash Snakes and especially Jay for the hilarious image of using a workout bar to pull Hermann up to de-activate the fucking machine. Ohhh we have fun.


End file.
